Bluebird
by WatchTheQueenConquer
Summary: Five years ago, an unfortunate accident sent Arnold into in a coma. Awake, unsettled, and desperate to return to the life he left behind, he finds that Hillwood and its inhabitants have changed since his departure, and learns the hard way that life doesn't slow down for anyone.
1. Begin Again

**A/N: New things. Exciting. Scary! Not sure how consistently I'll be updating this. Feedback is always appreciated!**

* * *

 **Bluebird**

 _Beep...beep...beep…_

The soft hum of nearby machinery filled his ears. There was something quite familiar about the drone, yet at the same time, new and sinister—something cold and mechanical. He felt as though he were waking from a daze, feeling his senses return. He felt a numbness in his limbs, a twitch in his face, and a sudden rush of adrenaline forcing him awake.

His eyes flew open. He found himself staring upwards at a gray ceiling sheltering an equally bleak room, a room that was brightened only by the midday sun poking in from beneath thick, achromatic curtains. The soft hum was changing; the pulse quicked its pace. His breathing grew heavier, and he let out an audible moan as he began to process his foreign surroundings; he was most certainly in a hospital room. He looked down to find himself hooked up to the machine beside his bedside, taunting him with its motorized sounds and haunting green spiked lines. He grimaced.

 _How long have I been asleep?_

He glanced around the room hurriedly, trying to keep himself calm, but to not much avail.

The rest of the room was relatively bare. There was a shelf to his right that had acquired a couple of items—gifts that he had received at some point in time. There was a small vase of flowers that had withered just recently, a small, stuffed monkey embracing a heart, a half deflated balloon, and a couple of cards that had been left propped open. He yearned to approach the gifts.

He glanced around almost frantically, searching for an escape. _What happened? Was I hurt? I think I would have remembered that…how-_

His eyes fell upon a small remote beside the bed. Raising a shaky arm, he fumbled for it, and took it in both hands. One it were a couple of buttons that activated several functions of the room, but it was the bright red button with the white cross on it at the bottom that caught his eye. He pressed it. A moment later, a voice spoke out.

"Nursing station, how can I help you?"

The young man cleared his throat. How long had it been since he had used his voice?

"Hi, I, uh… I need a nurse. I'm not quite sure where I am." The sound of his own voice, huskier and much hoarser than he recalled it being, catching him off guard.

"Alright dear, room number?"

He paled. "Oh...I don't know. I'm sorry."

"No problem!" the voice chirped."Let's see here…"

The voice paused.

"Oh goodness."

He felt woozy.

"Are you room 176?" the voice asked, with a bit more edge than expected. "Hold on sir, I'll send someone right away. Stay put, please!"

With a soft click, the transmission had ended. _What_ was happening? The tone of the nurse's voice did not resonate well within him. He could feel a wave of fatigue settling upon him, overtaking him as if he'd exhausted all mental and physical capabilities.

His thoughts were interrupted as the door to his room flew open. His eyes flew to the doorway, and he found a blonde woman standing there, glasses slightly askew, half smiling at him. Behind her, a smaller Asian woman in nurse attire.

"Arnold. Nice to finally meet you." the blonde woman said, almost breathlessly.

Arnold didn't respond. He suddenly felt woozy. He began to rub at his eyes. The use of the word ' _Finally_ ' caused some unease within him.

"I don't….where am…" he drifted off. Almost immediately, he could detect something different in his voice. There was some unfamiliar about it.

The two women entered the room completely. From behind them, various sounds drifted into the room; PA announcements, staff hurrying down hallways, the sounds of wheels along linoleum floors. The nurse then closed it, leaving the trio in the midst of a new, muffled silence.

"We should start from the beginning, I think," the woman offered, smiling at him. She approached the bedside, pulling a lone chair closer over to him. She took a seat, inching closer to his side. Arnold watched her, wide-eyed and unsure about whether or not he was still asleep.

"Arnold, my name is Dr. Henderson—this is Nurse Jenna." The nurse smiled and lowered her head politely. "We've been watching over you for quite some time now. We're at the Hillwood Medical Center. Do you remember how you got here?" she asked softly.

Arnold shook his head. _Quite some time…_ the words repeated themselves in his head.

She nodded. "That's ok. We'll get it to it. Now, Arnold, I've been looking over you for the past five years. You've been in a comatose state the entire time."

The air grew heavy.

The words reverberated in his ears.

 _Five years…five years…FIVE YEARS._

Arnold shifted uncomfortably in his bed, strange, itch-like sensations overtaking him. He shook his head. "Five years? No…no there's gotta be some mistake, I-I can't have been in here for so long." He heard voices inside his mind, screaming at him. _NO._

Dr. Henderson smiled softly at him. "I'm afraid it's the truth, Arnold. But we are so lucky to have you here with us. To be honest, we weren't sure if you were ever going to wake up."

Arnold felt shivers run up and down his back. "W-what happened? How did I end up here?" Dr. Henderson eyed him carefully, peering at him over her thinly framed glasses.

"Perhaps we should wait a little while before talking. You might benefit from a bit of rest."

"I've been resting for five years now," Arnold retorted bitterly. "I'd like to know the truth."

Henderson blinked slowly and then nodded. "Very well, then." She scooted her chair a bit closer, folding her legs when she found an adequate position. Nurse Jenna remained at the edge of the bed. Arnold noticed a bottle of some sort of medication sitting upon the clipboard that she was pressing to her chest.

"Now Arnold, five years ago, you were involved in a very serious car crash. A couple of weeks before the Christmas holiday, you and a friend ran into a bit of trouble with some ice on the road and the vehicle skidded off. I believe it was a hydrant that was hit, but a local stoop also had a lot of damage done to it. You endured the bulk of the injuries. Your friend spent a lot of time in the hospital, but was released after several weeks. Physically speaking, your injuries would have kept you here for only a bit longer than that, but with the coma…"

The word caused his breath to catch in his throat. He felt as though he was choking. Five years. Gone. It was as if he had never existed. He had just skipped ahead five whole years of his life. He felt the familiar wave of nausea duplicate itself.

"Who was the friend?" he asked weakly.

"A very nice guy—tall hair, dark skinned. Gerald, I believe? He visits once in awhile. He's going to be so thrilled to hear that you're awake."

The sound of the boy's name caused a wave of relief. Hearing Gerald's name again was like eating a wonderful meal after hours without food. Gerald, who had been his best friend since childhood, still cared. Gerald, who had been treated and cured, had resumed his normal life almost immediately in comparison.

"That's awesome to hear. I… I'd really like to see him. Do you know when he comes around?"

Henderson thought for a moment. "Not exactly. It's quite sporadic. You get quite a number of visitors around her, you know." Arnold felt his heart lighten a tad. "I do?" Henderson smiled at was middle-aged woman, although still beautiful and quite thin. She had a very maternal aura about her.

Nurse Jenna piped up for the first time since entering the room.

"Yes. In fact, those flowers over there—" she gestured to a small, but charming bouquet-"were brought in just last week."

"Who are they from? Do you know?"

"Your grandfather, actually."

Almost immediately, Arnold felt his eyes well up with tears, unaware of the fear lying dormant beneath the confusion and disbelief; his grandfather was still alive. He'd get to see him again.

"You're quite popular in the community, you know. So many different guests over the past couple of years—friends, teachers, roommates—I'd say you were a pretty popular guy."

Arnold looked away from her, focusing on the gray curtains still darkening the room.

"Would you like to open these up? Might make the room feel a little fresher," Henderson offered. Arnold nodded. Henderson rose from her seat and made her way over to the opposite end of the room, heels clacking with each step. She reached upwards and slowly inched the curtains away. Arnold felt somewhat nervous. _Nervous at seeing the sun again? Yeah, that's smart._

She opened them very slowly, and Arnold squinted in anticipation. The sight that greeted him was everything he had expected. The hospital was located downtown, and he could see overpasses winding beyond other buildings. The day was very bright, overcast skies glaring down upon the city. Henderson smiled, peering out of the window. "It looks like it's starting to snow again." she observed.

The brightness from the world outside was overwhelming. Arnold was not sure about his emotional state. He was thrilled, terrified, homesick, and excited all at once. He was bitter—seething, almost—at the idea of losing so much precious time. But, being the optimistic person that he was, he couldn't help but feel bit comforted, knowing he could maybe, just maybe, find a way to resume a normal life. The triad remained that for a few more moments, both of their eyes fixated at the world outside. It was only when Dr. Henderson turned her head towards the young blonde man that his vision came back into focus.

"Quite exciting, isn't it?" she asked.

Arnold felt uneasiness rise up in him again. His breathing began to grow heavier. He mumbled something, and found his eyelids growing heavy. He heard Dr. Henderson and Nurse Jenna calling out his name, before an unsettling darkness overtook him again.


	2. Progression

**A/N: Few things-I've always really liked the sense of community that was presented in HA, and I'm aiming to try and interpret that into this story. You'll be seeing a lot cuts between characters/groups, but they'll end weave together from time to time. I have some ideas on how I'll end it, but I'm gonna feel stuff out as it comes to me.**

 **Chapter 2**

With a heavy release of breathe, Arnold's eyes opened again. There was the ceiling, staring down at him once again. Dr. Henderson appeared into his view, leaning over the edge of the hospital bed.

"W-what happened?" he murmured.

Henderson smiled, push a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear. "I think you're just a bit overwhelmed at the moment. No need to worry. Everything's gonna be just fine."

Arnold felt a warmth creep upon his face. He'd fainted, and not for any good reason. _Overwhelmed,_ he scoffed to himself. _What's wrong with you?_ He attempted to return Henderson's smile, but had judged from her expression that it had become something of a grimace. He suddenly wanted to fall back into darkness that had stolen those five years.

It had been decided that Arnold would be monitored for another few weeks, and would be spending a few more days becoming familiar with a room he had already dwelled in for five years.

A few hours after his revival, Dr. Henderson had popped her head in to let him know that his family had been alerted. At hearing this, Arnold felt his heart soar. It wouldn't be much longer before he was face-to-face with his loved ones. His stomach flipped just thinking about.

After he had been left alone in his room, Arnold took an upright position on the bed. His eyes fell upon the shelves of gifts he had received. His interest perked as he realized that he had forgotten about the gifts. He wanted desperately the cross the room and peek at the cards and letters, but felt a bit exhausted to do so.

He sighed and tipped his oblong shaped head back onto his pillow. _Come on Arnold, think—what was the last thing you remember?_

Thoughts began to find their way towards his mind, in fragmented pieces that were no quite coherent. He could see faces…there was Gerald Johansson's, and Phoebe Heyerdahl's. Arnold smiled as her face appeared in his mind. How happy he would be to see them again. He recalled the snow falling, and the excitement of the holidays approaching. He remembered music, and good food. A party? Arnold frowned as he considered the fact that maybe Gerald had been intoxicated the night they had crashed. He shook the thought from his head, recalling Henderson's previous explanation.

Arnold felt his eyes begin to droop. Flashes of his friends' faces floated through his mind. _Rhonda…Sid…Harold…_ He smiled to himself. _Lila…_ who he had taken to winter formal sophomore year of high school, the girl he had always felt a bit attached to despite losing romantic interest in her. _Phoebe,_ who had become Gerald's girlfriend in the ninth grade and began to spend a lot more time with the pair. (Arnold worried that perhaps they had separated in his absence). Another image floated into his head, that of Helga Pataki. Her blonde head smiled at him in his vision. _She was there…yes, she was. I remember._ Helga, who had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, had held onto her tough as nails attitude.

As Arnold pondered over the events of that fateful night, he slowly found himself sinking into a deep slumber, and let it overtake him as it wished.

* * *

"So how is school going, Gerald?"

"It's going pretty great…not excited about finals, but that's life."

"And the sports? Playing well?"

"Yeah, we're doing pretty well. It's a solid team, that's for sure. Been thinking about pursuing some other options though..."

The voices resonated in Arnold's ears. The familiarity of them coddled him like a warm embrace. He stirred in his sleep. They hesitated.

"Shh, hold up." Gerald pressed, rising from his chair.

Phil moved closer to the bed and bent over the side as best he could. Surprisingly, he found himself fairly capable in his old age. He could still move fairly well, despite his need for a cane. He remained a chipper young soul nonetheless.

"Arnold? Are you there, boy?"

Arnold sighed, and opened his eyes, finally waking up completely. He smiled. "Hi Grandpa."

Grandpa Phil began to shake. He tilted his head to the side, a huge grin cracking onto his face. "Shortman…" he croaked, taking his grandson's hand in his.

Arnold smiled at his grandfather before turning to Gerald. "Hey Gerald…" he offered. Gerald had turned around, his hands on his head. He ran a hand through his hair and sniffled before turning around. "Arnold, my man…I can't…I can't believe this."

Arnold shrugged weakly. "Me neither, man. I'm still sort of having a hard time believing this." He took in Gerald's face- how different had it been? Arnold could not remember the specifics of his facial features from before. Before him stood a dashing young man, his body sculpted from hours of athletic feats. He had a small bit of facial hair, but his full head of hair was just as tall as he remembered. His smile broadened as he processed who his visitors truly were.

Phile had made his way closer to his grandson. "Oh Arnold! This is amazing! Everyone is going to be so excited to see you! Oh this is going to be great! You can go back to school, help me run the boarding house—I'm not getting any younger, you know—oh this is wonderful!" His grandfather was the happiest he had ever seen him, practically dancing around the room.

Arnold pushed himself up. "I… I don't even know where to begin. I don't know what to do. All I know is... I'm _so_ happy to see you two."

Gerald grinned. "You have no idea how happy we are. We didn't…" he grew a bit solemn, and cracks in his voice betrayed him. "We weren't sure we were ever gonna get you back, man. It was scary. It was hard for us…for _all_ of us." Arnold's eyes landed on the row of gifts. He couldn't deny that there were quite a number of them. "It was on the news and everything and…I'm…I'm so sorry man." Gerald shook his head and tears began to fall. He cursed slight under his breath. He leaned over Arnold's bed, elbows resting on the metallic railings.

"It's all my fault…all of it. I couldn't live with myself Arnold. Every day, all I thought about was how I ruined your life. Because I was a shitty driver who shouldn't have bothered. You told me, too, and I didn't listen. I should have listened to you. I just…God, Arnold I'm just so glad you get a chance to live your life. Even if I kind of fucked it up, I just..." Gerald drifted off, his voice catching in his throat.

Arnold gave his hand a short, comforting squeeze. Part of him did feel a little betrayed—he couldn't help it. It was that sardonic feeling that had lurked in the back of his mind when Dr. Henderson had first given him an update. After all, he had lost five years of his life—how could he _not_ have felt a bit hurt? But it didn't matter—it wasn't _actually_ Gerald's fault. He hadn't anticipated this. Neither of them had. "Accidents happen, Gerald. Please don't beat yourself up over this—it could have happened to anyone. But you're right, I get a second chance—let's just think about that now, okay?"

Gerald tried his best to smile. "Man, I missed you." He raised himself and hugged Arnold as tightly as he could in his position.

"My turn, my turn!"

Arnold had managed to rise from the bed to hug his grandfather. The feeling of being in Phil's arms caused him to tear up. His father figure for the past 21 years was still alive—Arnold was so thankful he'd been able to see him. "Grandpa, how's grandma doing?"

Arnold felt his stomach drop when he noticed Phil stiffen in his embrace. Phil pulled away gently, leaning on his cane. Gerald's eyes fell to the floor, downcast.

"Oh Arnold…your grandma passed about a year and a half ago."

The dizziness that Arnold had become so accustomed to in the past couple of hours had returned again. He sank to his bed.

"Oh," was all he could say.

A heavy silence filled the room. Arnold did not know how to emote—he felt exhausted again. He wanted to cry, but didn't know how to begin. He closed his eyes, and his eyebrow creased, partially in pain, partially in thought. It was only when he realized that he could not remember the last conversation he'd had with his grandmother that he felt a sob rising up inside of him. He swallowed, but couldn't prevent the small, pained sound that escaped his lips.

"Oh, Shortman, I'm sorry…I shouldn't have…ah…" Phil scratched at his head, his voice breaking. Gerald attempted to put an arm around him. "I'm sorry, man."

Arnold struggled to regain some sort of composure. "I-I'm sorry…"

It was only then that he realized that this was only step one of the process. It was going to be a long road to recovery.

The physical therapy had gone smoother than expected. Arnold spent the next couple of weeks relearning how to walk, and then passing out for twelve hours from exhaustion. Each day he would wake up and practice more walking, and would push himself a little further stretching. The accident had not come without some damage-Arnold struggled to remember how to perform simple tasks-he could not for the life of him remember how to tie his shoes. He occasionally forgot the names of his several friends. His memory had not been as clear as he had previously believed it to be, and Dr. Henderson had told him that many hours of rehab would be required. Just thinking about the journey ahead fatigued him.

* * *

When Arnold had finally been released from the hospital a month later, it was Gerald who had escorted him home. They had grabbed lunch at a sandwich place downtown, where Gerald had updated Arnold on his friends. Quite frankly, there was too much to talk about in the brief time that they'd had together, but Arnold was happy to hear whatever he could-even if he needed some reminders on some of his friends; names. At his request, Gerald hadn't yet updated their friends on the topic of Arnold's return to the conscious world.

Arnold learned that Gerald was going to Hillwood University, where he was an athlete with a full scholarship, although he'd become more interested in other things. He enjoyed school, and was still dating Phoebe, who was away at Yale. Arnold was not surprised by this news. He was surprised (and excited) to hear that Gerald was considering a proposal in the not-so-distant future. The thought thrilled him—the way Gerald's eyes lit up whenever he mentioned his brainy little girlfriend was the most endearing thing. He recalled the half Japanese girl's small frame, her fine hair often pulled back in a bun.

Gerald mentioned that Rhonda, Stinky and Harold were also all attending the University, and that they had managed to take a couple of classes together in their couple of years there. "We tried to plan our classes together as best as we could…it's been kind of hard, but we ended up all taking the same literature class this semester. It's pretty chill." Something flashed in Gerald's eye. "Rhonda and Harold are seeing each other now."

It took Arnold a moment to remember the nature of Rhonda and Harold's relationship, but when he had, he had nearly choked on his sandwich. "What?" Gerald nodded, smirking. "Yeah, it's happening. Honestly, I don't think it'll last—I think they're just rebounding, but hey, it's a thing."

"I _never_ would have expected that…"

"Me neither!"

The pair laughed heartily. It felt good to laugh with Gerald again.

"How about Sid? How's he doing?"

Gerald thought for a moment. "He's at the community college. He's not sure what he wants to do with his life. He's sort of chilling. Really into his pot. It's kind of annoying." Arnold could not remember whether or not Sid had been a pot fiend five years ago, but something in Gerald's voice had implied it. "I'm a little worried about him, to be honest- I heard he's tried a couple of harder things. I don't want him to get too carried away." His face grew solemn, but it was when he caught the uncomfortable look on Arnold's face that he brightened-there was no need to darken matters so much already.

"Sheena's also there, too. She's trying to transfer though—doing some veterinary work or something. She's also dating this guy who is like, at least 30." Arnold raised an eyebrow. " _Sheena?'_

Gerald shrugged. "I don't know man, I just spread the word, I don't write the word."Arnold refrained from telling him that he hadn't mentioned her name in disbelief-but that he simply could not place her face in his mind. With each moment of uncertainty, he grew more and more paranoid. _You're going to experience a fair amount of memory loss-it's normal. We're here to help you get those back_ , Dr. Henderson had said.

Arnold paused for a moment. "What about Lila?" Gerald half rolled his eyes. Arnold frowned. "What?"

"You _still_ thinking about Lila Sawyer? In that way?"

Arnold shrugged. "No, but we were close. Can't I just ask a question?" Gerald shrugged right back. "I suppose. Anyway, Lila's good. She's going to NYU for something. I can't remember what. She's been dating some guy for like two years now. Can't remember his name either. Eugene is her roommate, by the way."

"Eugene... Is he there too?"

"Yeah, majoring in Musical Theatre. He came out of the closet our senior year of high school. He's seeing some guy now too."

Arnold smiled. "Good for him!" Gerald nodded in agreement.

"What about Helga Pataki?" Arnold asked. Gerald hesitated. "Helga's close by…I think. I don't remember the name of the school, but it's not too far from here. To be honest, I haven't heard a lot from her recently. Phoebe still talks to her pretty regularly, and when she's in town I see her. I think she's doing creative writing or something."

"I see."

Gerald watched Arnold take a bite of his sandwich. Arnold caught his eye. "Something wrong?"

His best friend paused a moment, biting his lip. "Do you remember anything from the night of the accident?" he asked. Arnold shook his head. "Honestly, no. I think I remember people, and music."

Gerald sighed. "Well, I think something happened between you and Helga. And in all honesty, I don't know what. You wanted to talk about... _something_. That was why we left Rhonda's party. We were gonna go back to your place and talk about stuff."

Arnold felt a jolt in his stomach. Something had happened between him and Helga. "Was I mad?"

Gerald shrugged. "I don't know. You just had some stuff that you wanted to talk to me about."

A wave of disappointment seemed to settle on Arnold. There were so many questions he had, and almost nothing that he could solve on his own. The unanswered questions weighed heavily on him.

"Guess I'll have to figure that out at some point," he mumbled.

He took a bite of his sandwich.


	3. Discoveries

**A/N: A big thank you to those of who have reviewed- it truly means a lot to me! Just as a side comment, I'm still maneuvering through a lot expositional content at this point, so I hope things don't feel too spread out or uninteresting at this point. ;)**

* * *

"Oh…my…God."

Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd stood in front of her mirror, gripping her cell phone with both hands. She'd been picking out an outfit for the day when she'd received the message.

"What's wrong?" The skinny blonde girl lying on Rhonda's bed chirped, rolling onto her stomach. "Everything okay?"

Rhonda dropped the phone to her side and gaped at Nadine.

"It's Arnold Shortman. He's awake!" Nadine bolted upright with a shriek.

"Are you serious?" she squeaked. Rhonda nodded furiously, her eyebrows raised. "I just got this text from Sid, and he heard from Gerald." She handed the phone to Nadine to let her read the message for herself.

Gerald had texted a couple of people, who had spread the news like wildfire—at his request. Arnold had given the all clear when he'd finally been released from the hospital. Nadine's eyes flitted across the bright screen, and her eyebrows raised as she finished the message. "Wow…"

"Oh my god, I can't believe this—we _must_ visit him." Rhonda asked, fingers flying as she responded to the text.

"Absolutely!" Nadine responded. "Wow, that's incredible…I can't believe it."

"Let me text Gerald and see if he thinks we should go over tonight." Rhonda's fingers tapped against the phone weightily, her excitement peaked. With a _whoosh_ the message was sent.

The pair of girls lounged around the room some more. Rhonda had suddenly lost all interest in her search for an appropriate outfit. She let her long, elegant limbs spill over the side of the bed. There was a silence between them, the news of Arnold's recovery still hanging over them.

Rhonda's phone emitted a short, electronic chirp, and she quickly unlocked.

 _ **Maybe not tonight. I'll let you know when he's ready to be social again :-)**_

Rhonda pouted her lip slightly. "No good. Tonight won't do. Another time, perhaps." She spoke very matter-of-factly, as if she had checked her schedule only to find that she could not accommodate a visit.

Per usual, Nadine found herself blinking at Rhonda. "Well.. okay then…"

* * *

Sid found himself leaning against the brick building, cigarette between his fingers. He lifted it to his lips and inhaled.

"It's fucking crazy, man. How the fuck does that happen?" He shook his head, gazing off into the space. One of his hands was tucked within the curve of his other elbow. It had gotten cold, and his jacket provided little warmth.

The tall young man beside him shrugged his shoulders. "I reckon that's a miracle of some sort."

The third guy, a larger, sturdier boy sat on an abandoned crate beside them. "Arnold's just a goddamn magician or something. I'm sure if I'd been the one with my brain all rattled up like that, I wouldn't have made it. I'm telling you."

"You fellers think he'll be any different?" Stinky asked quietly.

"How so?" Sid asked.

"I mean… you think he's gonna act like a zombie or somethin'?"

"That's so fucking stupid, Stink."

"No, I get what he's saying-sometimes people's minds are all fucked up, they don't quite know what's going on. Your brain gets all weird. I've heard about it."

"See?"

"Fine, you're not stupid."

A silence fell among the three boys. The air grew colder, and the snow began to fall.

* * *

The brisk, late afternoon air whipped across Lila Sawyer's face as she hurried up the steps into her apartment building. She fumbled for the keys in her purse, keeping her face low to avoid the icy chill. Despite it being early December, there was not a hint of snow on the New York streets. That didn't stop it from being cold as hell. She shivered as she opened the front door to her home. She was greeted by Eugene, lounging on the couch.

As his eyes landed on her, he hopped up. "Lila!"

She quickly closed the door behind her.

"Hi Eugene! I'm home!" she greeted in her usual, chipper voice.

"Lila, you're never gonna believe this." He said, his voice shaking with excitement.

She tilted her head slightly at him, waiting for him to continue. He took a deep breath.

"Arnold Shortman…woke up." Lila's eyes widened. The key slipped from Lila's hand.

"Eugene…you're not serious." she said, almost in a daze. Memories of Arnold's smiling face came back into her memory. "You're not…"

The red headed boy nodded furiously. "Yes! Gerald texted me—I can't believe it! This is so wonderful!

Lila recalled the last encounter she'd had with Arnold. It had been a couple of days before the accident. She hadn't been at the party that night. Lila had gone to a movie with Arnold, Gerald and Stinky. It had been a pleasant evening, and Arnold had walked her home. It was the most personal she'd ever been with him. She'd opened up to him in ways she had not done before, confided in her fears after graduation. She'd had a very nice time opening up to him, and wondered if perhaps, after so many years of pushing him away, she'd developed some sort of romantic feelings for him. But did any of it matter now? Not really. Lila smiled to herself as she thought about her current boyfriend, Chris, with whom she'd fallen head over heels for. But her love for Chris didn't really stop her from _thinking._ What was so wrong about thinking on what _could_ have been?

"I can't wait to see him!"

"Speaking of which…" Eugene gestured to his open laptop sitting on the coffee table. "…we need to book our flights home for Christmas…"

* * *

Phoebe Heyerdahl sat at her desk. She sighed heavily. She glanced at the clock of her computer screen. 11:48. She groaned. The lab report was only about three quarters of the way through, but she wanted to get more done before she retired for the night. _It's not due tomorrow anyways… why am I awake?_

She sighed again, before glancing her bed. She hadn't seen her phone in hours, and wondered if perhaps there'd be something a little bit more interesting awaiting her on it. She entered her small living room to find it nestled among the pillows of her couch. Phoebe bent over to pick it up. Her heart soared when she read Gerald's name. Gerald was very good about letting her studies come first—he tried not to occupy too much of her time during the week, but occasionally would send cute messages to help her through the tough weeks of the semester.

 _ **Hey, are you busy right now? Can I call?**_

Phoebe frowned. There was no smiley, or heart…or anything remotely cutesy. It was very un-Gerald of him. However, he had sent it hours ago. Surely he would have sent more than one message if it was urgent?

 _ **Not busy… getting ready for bed. Is something wrong?**_

She pressed the 'send' button and watched the conversation on the screen for a few seconds, knowing he would respond soon after. No message came back, and in its place came his call. She answered immediately.

* * *

Helga Pataki sat at her small kitchen table, her head in between her hands. She could hear Phoebe's shrieks ringing in her eyes, slightly disoriented by the telephone connection.

 _"He's awake! Helga, Arnold's **awake**!"_

A soft sob escaped her lips. She pulled at her hair, brushing it away from her face. She couldn't think straight. She didn't know what to do. She knew what she _wanted_ to do, which was to book the first train home and pound on his door. He was awake, and alive, and alert, and healthy. She could talk to him again. And he could respond.

Helga's front door opened, and a figure appeared in the doorway.

"Hey Helga, what's up, I was thinking about ordering—" the girl stopped as she saw her roommates puffy eyes and tear stained face. "Helga…what's wrong?"

Helga shook her head. "Nothing, Alex. Absolutely nothing." She rose from her chair. "Really, it's actually fine." She retreated to her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Alex followed her and leaned against the closed door. "Just…let me know if you need anything. Really. I'm here." Alex had been a very good roommate. She knew Helga well enough by now to know when to take her word. She didn't try to pry, and respected her boundaries. Despite their close relationship, Alex had never once heard Arnold's name escape Helga's lips.

Helga heard Alex shuffle towards her room. She sighed, and dove to the floor, where she rummaged beneath her bed. Her hand found its way to a small, pink book. This had been perhaps the third pink book Helga had scribbled in over the past couple of years, and she quickly flipped to the last entry. She hadn't written in nearly five months. She had been so good. She had begun to let go. But none of that mattered now. Emotions came flooding back—and it was overwhelming. With a sort of growl, she lunged for the closest pen and scribbled until her hand ached as much as her heart.


	4. The Return

**A/N: Yay an update! There will more than likely be another one rather soon, as I'm still switching back and forth between characters and really trying to make sure they all get their stories told. And of course, for those asking, the Arnold/Helga relationship is going to be a big part (duh).**

* * *

The forest-greeen colored front door of the Sunset Arms loomed before him. Arnold felt almost permanently attached to the stoop. He glanced backwards at Gerald, standing a few steps below him.

"What's wrong, man?"

Arnold turned to face the door again. He felt as though he were trespassing on private property. He had been looking forward to seeing the building again, yet here he is stood, frozen. Incapable of taking hold of the door handle. He felt unwelcome.

"It's just weird." Arnold responded, his voice drifting away.

The snow had begun to fall on the street. The air, though chilled, did not whip across his face. The coldness seemed to embrace him.

"Are you gonna be alright?" Gerald asked.

Arnold licked his lips hastily, feeling the irritants of the cold air already beginning to strike.

"Yeah, I just… I can't stop thinking about my grandma. She's not in there." His voice sounded so angry in his own ears. _Of course I'm angry._

There was no response from Gerald. There was nothing more to say. His expression was distant and defeated.

"Don't worry about me, Gerald. I can take care of myself." Arnold offered a weak smile to his best friend. Gerald responded with one only slightly more enthusiastic, and retreated back to his car. He hesitated in the driver's seat. Arnold turned to the door, and summoning up the little bit of energy he possessed for the day, he pushed it open.

As the door swung open, a rambunctious squeal rose up from the ground. Arnold looked down, and his worried expression melted into one of complete and utter devotion.

"Abner!" he called out, his voice rising. Arnold fell to his knees, embracing the pig. The animal had grown old and lethargic, although he still possessed the playful characteristics he'd always had. Abner continued to squeal with delight at the return of his owner, and the commotion ushered other people into the entryway.

"Hey what's going on, it's freezing out…"

Arnold stood back up, and found himself holding eye contact with Ernie Potts.

"Son of a…"

Almost immediately, Arnold felt a rather large mass hit him square in the stomach. Ernie had thrown himself at the boy, who towered over him.

"Arnold! I can't believe you're really here!"

Arnold returned the embrace and laughed weakly. "Yeah, it's me." He stared down at Ernie's head- was he shorter than he remembered him to be? Arnold laughed a bit internally.

Upon entering the building, Arnold was hit by a familiar scent-it was nothing he could necessarily pinpoint, but it reminded him of his youth. His eyes scanned the room-the building had not quite changed. The color scheme was still the same, and the layout as he had remembered it being since his youth. His eyes flitted on the walls. There were a few new frames hung on the wall. He caught a glimpse of his face in one. In another, there was a picture of his grandparents. Arnold's stomach lurched as his eyes focused on the image; they were in the hospital, and his grandmother was dressed in a hospital gown.

Knowing this was surely the final picture that his grandparents had taken together, he immediately removed his gaze. He wasn't ready to break down just yet. He'd ask more about her later. He was too exhausted.

"Hey, guys! Come downstairs!" Ernie shouted upwards. Arnold glanced behind him at the still open door and found that Gerald was still waiting in the car. He gave a thumbs up, which Gerald then reciprocated. A moment later, he was gone. Arnold closed the door behind him and turned to see several familiar figures hustling down the staircase.

Suzie gave a soft cry of disbelief, covering her mouth with her hands. She flung herself at Arnold, tears flowing more openly.

"Oh my God" she repeated multiple times, feeling around his face. It was almost as if she was still unsure as to whether or not he was truly there with them. "I am so happy to see you, Arnold! Welcome back! Oscar, can you believe it?"

Oscar Kokoshka laughed his peculiar laugh, welcoming the boy into his arms. "Oh Arnold, this is the most incredible news. How can you still be alive after all this time-ow!" His wife had elbowed him in the gut, her tear-filled eyes practically attacking him with venom.

Phil had appeared in the doorway, watching his residents welcome the prodigal son back into the home. Mr. Hyunh had had a similar reaction to Suzie's, to which Oscar mimicked, and to which Suzy had scolded. The hustle and bustle of the reunion resulted in many different questions being asked. The differing voices coming at Arnold were beginning overwhelm him, and he was grateful when Phil had interrupted.

"Why don't we let Arnold head up to his room? Maybe he wants to take a nap before dinner?"

Arnold smiled. A nap had never sounded lovelier.

* * *

The room was pristine. Not a book was out of place. Arnold could not remember what state it had been in before he had...left. He sat on his bed, glancing around the room. His computer, which was probably somewhat outdated by this point, sat on the wooden desk. The sound system-probably untouched- had a volume dial set to 8. The light on the desk had been angled slightly- all remnants of a shell of a life. There had been activity. Someone had _thrived_ here.

And someone would thrive again.

Strangely enough, Arnold had forgotten about the glass ceiling above him, and had reveled in it for quite some time. He lay down on his bed, folding his hands behind the peculiar shaped head of his. The sky above him was a pale gray, and he could see small bits of snow flurrying around the window. He closed his eyes and let his fatigue conquer him.

* * *

Rhonda lay on her stomach, her long legs bent, letting her feet hang in the air. Her head rested in her palm, propped up on her satin sheets by her delicate elbow. Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders, starkly contrasting her pale skin.

"What are you even doing in there?" she groaned. From inside her private bathroom, Harold mimicked her whining playfully.

She scowled at him and rolled over. She crossed her legs and sat upright, attempting to appear a little more enticing. He glanced at her and grinned. He quickly ran a towel over his face and tossed it on the sink, and ran towards her bed and hopping on it. He leaned over her.

"You're so impatient!" He said. Rhonda didn't care.

"Of course. I've only been waiting, like, all day! I'm meeting Nadine again later and I just want to...make the most of our time together." There was a twinkle in her eye.

Harold lowered his head and met her lips with his.

The relationship between Harold and Rhonda had been, quite honestly, mostly physical. Sure, she enjoyed him all the same, but the sexual nature of it was new to her. The frenzied nature of it, the _urgency_ of it all was so...so _exciting_ to her. She'd never been in a relationship before where the sexual elements were so...well, _enjoyable_.

They spent a few minutes becoming more and more intimate, but Rhonda paused the interaction.

"We should have a party."

Harold looked bewildered. "To...celebrate what great sex we have?"

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Absolutely not. No, for Arnold!" A frown tugged at Harold's lips.

"Have you...been thinking about Arnold the whole time?"

"NO! It just came to me right now!" Rhonda objected, blushing profusely. She immediately recalled the crush she'd had on Arnold in the 8th grade that lasted for about two days, and her blush deepened a little bit. "Nadine and I were talking about it earlier. We could host it here at the apartment.."

"Yeah, the old gang!" Harold offered.

Rhonda nodded. "Exactly."

Harold scooted a bit closer to her, draping an arm over here. "It's a good idea. But I'll let you and Nadine plan it together. There's still a lot of time before she comes over…"

With a toss of her head and laugh, Rhonda leapt up and kissed her boyfriend once more.

* * *

"This is the final boarding call for US Airlines flight number 247. Final call for 247 to Chicago."

Eugene handed his boarding pass to the attendant, tugging his large navy blue suitcase along.

"Thank you," the attendant murmured, quickly moving on to check the next passenger. Lila smiled as she held out her boarding pass. She hurried along to catch up with Eugene, several steps ahead of her. The air from outside had begun to seep through the thinly veiled walls of the tunnel that fed into the aircraft's doors, and Lila shivered once again.

Both Lila and Eugene had spent the past summer in New York, saving up money to pay for the next year's rent and taking on small roles in community theatre productions. Neither had seen in Hillwood in almost a year.

"I can't wait to see my parents," Eugene said softly as the airplane's door came into the view. The mass of people came to a slow as each took their turn entering.

Lila shivered as bits of cold air grazed her cheek. "It'll be so nice to see everyone. I'm sure my dad can't wait to have me home for a bit." She smiled as thoughts of her father's beaming face appeared in her mind. How proud he had been when she'd gotten her acceptance letter to college, and how much more pride he felt when she'd received her scholarship offer. He missed her terribly-this she knew-but his desire for her happiness surpassed those feelings. He was, quite simply, the most perfect father.

A few minutes of silence passed between the pair of friends as they boarded the aircraft. Eugene found himself staring out the windows, the runway a frozen landscape.

"Oh gosh," Lila exclaimed, her eyes fixated on the scene. "I'm sure we will be delayed…"

"I'll let my parents know!" Eugene exclaimed. Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly dialed a number.

Lila found herself watching the people passing her take their seats. She heard Eugene's voice from beside her, speaking to his mother: "Yeah, just to let you know…"

Truth be told, as excited as Lila was about seeing her father, barely a moment had passed where she had not been thinking about Arnold. Alive and alert. His almost unbelievable recovery had shaken her to core. She had sent him a text message, only half believing that he would receive it, but he had responded, although the response very short. She figured he was resting and regaining strength and had no qualms about it.

"...Yeah, I'll check in at Chicago. Ok, love you. Bye!" Eugene hung up the phone and placed the it back in his carry on. His gaze focused on Lila, whose glossy expression remained fixated on nothing in particular.

"So Lila," he said in attempt to ground her. "How's Chris?"

The sound of her boyfriend's name snapped her out of her trance. "Oh, he's good. Visiting family for Christmas."

Chris was a musician at the Steinhardt school. They'd met at a party and started dating shortly after. She had realized that she had fallen in love with Chris a few short months later, and they'd been together ever since. In short, Chris was _perfect._ Kind, intelligent, polite, and devoted as hell.

 _Gosh, I've never thought about how similar Chris is to Arnold…_

The thought caused something inside of her to jolt, and she immediately regretted it. She felt almost overcome with guilt. She had been so preoccupied with Arnold's recover that she was slighting her own boyfriend for it.

"What's Armin doing for Christmas, Eugene?" she asked, referring to the red-headed boy's boyfriend. Although they had not been together for very long, they were a good match, and Lila approved whole-heartedly.

"Oh, same as Chris. Family in Boston. You know how it is." Lila smiled.

As expected, the flight was delayed. Lila pulled out a pair of headphones. She started her 'Sleep' playlist and closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to silence her mind for a few hours. She was fast asleep rather quickly, and had barely even noticed the plane taking off into the sky.


End file.
